Inside, therefore, we gave ourselves up to enjoyment of what momma called the varied panorama around us; while, outside, the cabman passed in critical review half the gentleman's outfitters in London.

It was momma who finally brought him to a halt, and the establishment which inspired her with confidence and emulation was inscribed in neat, white enamelled letters, _Court Tailors_.
As we entered, a person of serious appearance came forward from the rear, by no means eagerly or inquiringly, but with a grave step and a great deal of deportment.

I fancy he looked at momma and me with slight surprise; then, with his hands calmly folded and his head a little on one side, he gave his attention to the Senator.

But it was momma who broke the silence.
"We wish," said momma, "to look at gentlemen's suitings." "Yes, madam, certainly.

Is it for--for----" He hesitated in the embarrassed way only affected in the very best class of establishments, and I felt at ease at once as to the probable result.
"For this gentleman," said momma, with a wave of her hand.
The Senator, being indicated, acknowledged it.